Backup
by butterfly1415
Summary: I had always been the backup. Never number one. B stood for Backup. I was nothing more than a replacement. A substitute. For once in my life, I wanted to be number one. Beyond Birthday. Rated M for violence.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, Death Note Another Note or Beyond Birthday**

**A/N: I read Death Note Another Note Los Angeles BB Murder Cases, and grew fascinated of B. I think he's awesome. With this story, I tried to find out what made B do what he did. I hope I did it well.**

Beyond Birthday

Backup

B

BB

He was never number one. Only number two. The second. The next best. The Backup. The one you used if number one wasn't there, if the best couldn't make it.

He was Backup. Number two. Like in the alphabeat, B was number two. A had been number one. A had been the best. Had been. But it showed that he wasn't the best after all. He couldn't stand the pressure, the expectations. He had begged B to kill him. B had did shouldn't he? It gave him a chance to become number one. The rush he got wasn't like anything else he ever experienced before. He was number one.

He had made himself number one. L was the greatest, of course, but B was the best. He was number one. He was number one.

It had been enough to be the successor to the greatest detective in the world for a while. The rush had lasted a few years. Then he found himself wanting more. It wasn't enough being number one anymore. Now he wanted to be the greatest. At that point, L was beginning to solve cases. It wasn't full time, and he stayed at Wammy's. But still, he solved cases. B wanted to be the best. He wanted to be L.

So, he let his hair grow, he developed a taste for sweet things, and he wore the same as L. He wanted to be as close to be the greatest as he could. He was still number two, even after A died. L was number one, B was Backup. The second best.

He liked jam. Red strawberry jam. He loved the colour. It had the same colour as A's blood. As any blood. And it had the same colour as his eyes. Pure red. People stared as his eyes, but it didn't really bother him. He knew when they were gonna die. He knew that they would be punished.

L loved sweet things, so B chose jam. Red, red jam.

B was satisfied. He was as close to being L as he could. He knew he never could become better than L. L was smarter that him. Unfortunately.

L always looked at him. B knew that he saw the insanity, the wishes in his eyes. He knew that L knew just how long he would go to get what he wanted. And it was far. He killed A, right?

L knew that he killed A. A begged for it, but B would have done it anyway. He made sure there was no evidence. He had dried up the blood. But L still looked at him when he saw A's body. B had to outside to hide his laugh. If you wasn't strong enough to handle the pressure, you didn't deserve to be the best.

As they grew older, L solved more cases, he moved out of Wammy's and he became the world's greatest detective. B knew that that spot was taken. He moved out of Wammy's as fast as he could, and planned.

B always wanted to challenge L. He wanted to see if L really was as great as they said. He would see who won. He knew it probably was L, but he didn't really care. If L won, it was that, then the game was finished. But if B won...

B wanted to win, so badly. He had never been number one to anyone. His mother preferred his father. His father preferred alcohol. B was never planned. He was satisfied when they died. He had reminded himself, his whole childhood, that they would die at some point. He knew when.

When he moved to Wammy's, it was only to be Backup. To be plan B. To be the Backup plan. He knew he was just a replacement if L died. He always knew that. But once, just once, he wanted to be number one. He wanted to be accepted, respected. Everyone had always thought he was a freak. But L was a freak as well. So, if he was accepted, why wasn't B?

He challenged L. He asked him to come out and play. It was fun. B didn't regret anything. He didn't regret anything at all.

B didn't really care what he had to do to become number one. He didn't care about those who stood in his way.

And as he felt his heart tighten in his chest, he didn't really care. He knew that he had been number one. He had killed A and became number one.

After all, it wasn't too long before L died as well.


End file.
